Summary: Soulmate AU where if you throw a paper plane out your window it always makes its way to your soulmate. You can’t write your full name, your location, or any contact info, anything else is fair game. It’s up to fate to bring you together.

A/N: This was such a cute idea and also reminded me of that one Disney short. You know the one. Also, I will jump at any opportunity I can to write sappy love notes and Lin’s messy handwriting. Please don’t ask me about logistics of this, I have no idea what happens if your window is shut and your soulmate throws a plane, I’m just here to write fluff.___________________________________

Your parents had told you the story all through your childhood. They would always weave you intricate tales at bedtime about how you might meet your soulmate. Your favorite stories always had a prince playing that role. As you got older the stories evolved from fictitious plots to questions and conversations.

You received your first letter from him at seven years old. It took you by surprise when the paper plane made of blue construction paper landed on the floor of your bedroom. You scrambled from you bed to scoop it up and inspect it. You unfolded it carefully, flipping it over.

‘ Hi! My name is Lin! ‘

You yelped as if the paper itself had spoken and ran into the living room where your mom was preoccupied with a book. She seemed to notice your panic because her eyes immediately left the pages to study your face.

“They wrote you, didn’t they?” she asked wryly with a twinkle in her eye. You squeaked out a yes, shoving the blue paper towards her. She unfolded it to see the note before chuckling. “Well, are you gonna write them back or not?”

You spent the entire night debating and when your mom came into your room to kiss you goodbye before she left for work she saw you sitting on the floor surrounded in papers.

“For them or from them?” she asked with an amused smile as she leaned against your doorway.

They knew exactly how to draw in a fanbase and they utilized some really recognizable yaoi/BL tropes. It put some people on edge, sure, and they probably knew that they’d alienate a portion of their fans from the start by using them, but then they took the opportunity, 10 episodes in, to recontextualize literally everything. 10 episodes in which we know so much about Yuuri and we’ve seen his relationship with Viktor develop so much. 10 episodes, where everyone who’s still watching still remembers that iffy beginning but we trust the writers enough because they’re doing so well now…

And they gave us a 2-minute credit gag, canonized in the show itself, of a drunken night of dance-offs, that managed to recontextualize every single sketchy trope they used earlier.

Viktor had had this awesome, amazing night with this drunken dork who got completely hammered and railroaded the entire banquet for the sake of a dance-off where he begged Viktor to be his coach if he won said dance-off. And this kid, who did awfully at the GPF, was actually fucking amazing on the dance floor, and Viktor was probably thinking “fuck I just might”

But then then at the airport, when Viktor tries to get Yuuri’s attention again, Yuuri brushes him off. It’s not Viktor being a self-absorbed “oh everybody loves me” famous skater - he actually remembered what a good time he and Yuuri had at the banquet and was probably trying to get a good sober picture of this ridiculous boy.

Now Viktor’s probably thinking that it didn’t mean anything, that Yuuri would’ve asked any of the top skaters to be his coach, that Viktor was just there and ended up being targeted by coincidence…up until that video comes up. And after the banquet? That mimic-skate probably read like a goddamn love letter. (I mean, from Yuuri’s perspective, it kind of was, but he never had any intention of actually giving said letter to Viktor.) So Viktor says fuck it, this kid did win that dance-off and he actually has amazing talent on the ice and has so much potential and goddammit coaching sounds fun and even if it doesn’t go well he’ll at least get to be around this sexy pole/stripper/break-dancing dork and that sounds like a fair trade, okay?

So he flies his ass to Japan now knowing that Yuuri’s family owns a hot spring and just shows up because lol why the fuck not. And he thinks Yuuri remembers that night. Sure, Viktor can buy that Yuuri’s much more open when he’s drunk and he’s just shy and reserved because he’s sober, but Viktor’s already aware that Yuuri has this sexy, seductive side to him and he tries to coax it out of Yuuri by being seductive right back at him. It’s complete payback for that night! Viktor eventually chills because he’s learning about what kind of man Yuuri is and how a relationship between them is going to work.

It’s also why Viktor was so sure that Yuuri could do the Eros routine - he’d seen that boy mostly naked and doing ridic things with that limber body of his. (Besides, having a 15-year-old doing a sexual routine? Let’s not, a’ight?) Viktor knows that Yuuri can be forward, assertive, sexy, and seductive - he just needs confidence (which is what the alcohol was giving him before).

And on another note, Chris’s greeting? So much less sketchy now. I mean, his routine is still…. But that’s because he’s just That Guy, but not That Guy that blithely crosses boundaries, apparently! He and Yuuri had been in their undies on a stripper pole - I mean, after that, some ass-patting seems rather tame.

It also gives more context to every other skater just automatically assuming that Viktor and Yuuri are banging - they saw them dance! They saw that chemistry! Between Yuuri’s blatant flirting and Viktor actually agreeing - well what the fuck else were they supposed to think?

I’m just so happy and so impressed that the writers managed to use drunken debauchery as a context to make the sketchy tropes less sketchy. THAT’S SOME SKILL.

“Yes, nana,” replied Teddy sleepily as he yawned. It was a warm summer morning and he wasn’t used to waking up this early during summer.

“You’ve got mail,” said Andromeda with a grin on her face. “Want to open it?”

“Is it–”

“I don’t know,” she said with her eyebrow raised. “You are eleven after all.”

Teddy jumped from his bed and ran to where Andy was standing with a letter in her hand, no sign of his exhaustion from mere minutes ago. He didn’t wait for her to stretch out the letter, he snatched from her, his eyes filled with wonder.

He turned the letter around and saw the crimson wax seal stamp with the Hogwarts emblem on it. He tore it carefully, afraid of hurting whatever was inside. He pulled out the letter and dropped the envelope on the floor.

Dear Mr. Lupin,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Teddy’s eyes grew twice the size and he looked up at his grandmother with such glee that Andromeda couldn’t help but get tears in her eyes.

“I wonder which house I’m going to be in,” he said as he read the letter once more. “I hope I’m in Gryffindor like my dad.”

“Well,” laughed Andy. “Your mum was a Hufflepuff and there’s nothing wrong with other houses, you know.”

“You were a Slytherin, right?”

“I sure was.”

“And Grandpa?”

“He was a Hufflepuff, too,” she replied as her eyes drifted off remembering the first time she saw Ted Tonks in 4th year with his yellow and purple scarf around his neck laughing at a joke one of his friends had told. “And you know Aunt Luna is a Ravenclaw.”

“I know but I’d rather be in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff,” he said with a sad face. “You know, like my parents.”

“The Sorting Hat is an incredible object dear,” said Andy with a soft smile. “I’m sure it will put you in the best house for you. So… pancakes for breakfast?”

“Yes!” exclaimed Teddy and he went back in his room to put his letter on his desk as his grandmother left for the kitchen. He then ran down the stairs to the kitchen hoping she was making the pancakes with magic. He wasn’t disappointed to find plates and eggs flying around the kitchen once he entered.

They spent their breakfast talking about Hogwarts and the houses. Andy explained how the school wasn’t the way it used to be anymore. How Slytherin was such a mess when she went to school but slowly got their reputation back. Teddy had always been interested in the Wizarding World but recently his curiosity over Hogwarts had been overwhelming which required Andy to tell the same stories over and over again but she wasn’t complaining. The way Teddy’s eyes shined with happiness was worth it.

“Nana,” began Teddy excitedly. “We should let Harry know that I got the letter!”

“Ah, you’re right.”

With that Andy summoned some parchment and a quill and wrote to Harry about Teddy’s letter. In five minutes, their owl had left the house to go to Godric’s Hollow.

“Now, I have something to show you,” said Andy as she sat down on their sofa in the living room and Teddy climbed next to her as he looked up at her expectedly. She was holding a very thick photo album in her hand. “Your grandpa liked taking pictures the muggle way.”

Teddy smiled and got comfortable next to his nana, he knew this was going to take some time but it was his favourite thing to do with Andy, looking at the old pictures of his mother.

“This album is from the day she got her letter and onwards,” she explained as she slid her fingers softly over the picture of her daughter. “Back when she still used black hair.”

“She looks like you when she has black hair,” pointed out Teddy looking longingly at her mother at the age of eleven. She was smiling at the letter she was holding in her hand. Teddy had seen many pictures of his mum with different hair colours but never with black.

“I always thought she looked more like Ted,” she said smiling at the memory of her daughter and husband. “You look like them a lot as well.”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” she answered as she tapped on Teddy’s nose softly making the little boy giggle. “You are more like her than you can imagine and I’m not even talking about the metamorphmagus abilities you have.”

“This is from before we went to the King’s Cross to send her off,” sighed Andy. “We tried talking her out of it but she wasn’t having it. So she went to school with half purple and half yellow hair.”

Teddy was laughing at the picture and thinking about doing the same thing in his second year, it didn’t matter which house he was in.

“I’m going to do it, too,” he said finally after he stopped laughing and Andy rolled her eyes.

“Of course you are,” she teased. “Like mother like son, right?”

They didn’t talk for a while after that and kept looking at the pictures. They weren’t moving like regular pictures did but Teddy appreciated them still. Andy explained when the pictures were from every now and then but other than that both of them were lost in their thoughts. It was such a heavy burden for a eleven year old Andy thought but she showed the pictures she had. She thought Teddy deserved to know who his parents were and Andy was one of the few people who can show him. She wasn’t going to deny him that.

“Her face stays the same all the time though,” said Teddy.

“I loved her for that,” replied Andy with a small laugh. “Her eyes and her hair changed all the time. She did it unintentionally when she was a baby so even I don’t know what colour her eyes are but she never changed the way she looked permanently even though she could.”

“I would never do that either,” said Teddy proudly. “Do you know what colour my eyes were?”

“No dear,” admitted Andy. “The moment you looked into your dad’s eyes, they turned amber and changed every time someone you liked held you.”

“Oh,” mumbled Teddy. “I like amber though.”

“I like amber, too,” she agreed smiling warmly at Teddy. “When you have my pale grey eyes you look so much like your Uncle Sirius, like you do right now.”

Andromeda got lost in the memory of his cousin and how much he would have loved Teddy. Teddy looked like Sirius but was more like Regulus on the inside and the memory of the younger Black boy turned Andy’s stomach upside down. Even since she found out what he did, she couldn’t stop thinking about how she didn’t do enough to save him or how Sirius died not knowing what his little brother did. Andy shook his head in an attempt to get rid of these thoughts in her head.

They were slowly coming to the end of the album. As she was looking at all the pictures of her daughter with her friends and family, she saw a drop of water fall down on the album. She lifted her head up to Teddy and gasped unwillingly as her eyes filled up with tears.

“Teddy,” she whispered softly. “You don’t have to try to hold it in when you are with me, you don’t ever have to do that.”

“I just–”

“I know dear,” she confessed. “I know photographs aren’t enough. I know it will never be enough and I’m sorry.”

“I just wish I could show them my letter,” said Teddy. “I wish she could share my excitement with me and tell me I will be a Hufflepuff no matter what Dad says.”

Teddy looked guilty for some reason but Andy thought she would let him do the talking, she never tried to make him feel better when he was crying because she never knew what to say.

“I love you, nana,” he continued through his hiccups. “I love you so much but I miss them, too.”

“Never think I will replace them Teddy, not Harry not me. We will never try to.”

“I’m so lucky to have you but I just wish I had them as well,” sobbed Teddy, his head on his grandmother’s chest as she stroked his pick hair softly.

“Me, too, Teddy,” sighed Andromeda. “All of us do.”

Crack.

“I came as soon as I saw the–” began Harry but stopped cold in his tracks. “Teddy your hair…”

“What?” said Teddy before he ran to the mirror. He had bubblegum pink hair that looked fluorescent with his pale skin. “I didn’t– I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“You look so much like her,” babbled Harry as he looked at his godson with so much wonder in his eyes. “It suits you Teddy.”

“I-I can’t look in the mirror like this everyday,” he said as he pressed his palms on his eyes. “I need to change it, it’s like seeing her. I can’t do that.”

He closed his eyes and focused on changing his hair to whatever colour, he didn’t care he just wanted it to change. When he opened his eyes he had bright blue hair and he thought it was a good tribute to his mother without giving him so much pain.

“I think this is better,” he smiled a little after he saw the concern in his godfather and nana’s eyes.

“Yes it is,” replied Andy as he hugged him tightly. “You are such a strong boy Teddy, I don’t know where the Sorting Hat will place but I feel like he’s going to have a hard time.”

“I think purple would look amazing on you,” grinned Harry before he kneeled down to give Teddy a hug. “However, any house would be lucky to have you.”

“Thanks Harry,” he mumbled.

“Now, I want to see your letter, can you go and get it for me?” he asked and Teddy’s eyes lit up instantly.

“Of course,” he replied before running off to his room.

Harry took the time to bring some water for Andromeda and sit down on the couch with her.

“Are you okay, Andy?”

“It hurts me to see how much pain he goes through every time we do something like this,” she explained. “But he wants to do it, I don’t know what to do. Maybe I shouldn’t do this for a while.”

“No Andy,” objected Harry softly. “I think it’s a part of the healing process. I would have given anything to know more about my parents even if it gave me pain.”

“You’re right,” said Andy wiping away the tears from her eyes just as Teddy ran into the room and jumped on Harry’s lap with the letter. Harry read the letter intently and gave it back to Teddy.

“So I was wondering if I could come to the Diagon Alley with you guys when you go. We can visit Uncle George and eat ice cream,” offered Harry to a grinning Teddy. Teddy lifted his eyes up to his grandmother to ask for approval.

“Well of course you could Harry,” said Andy before smiling warmly at the both of them.

“We can even look at brooms,” Harry whispered to Teddy and he giggled in response.

“No,” came the voice of Andy from the kitchen and Harry winked at Teddy making him go into a giggling fit and the sound of it made Andy feel better in a matter of seconds.

The much anticipated “Aphotic Sequence”. This is a sigil method that I designed myself, and if you look in the tag “Aphotic Sequence” on my blog, you can see some of the sigils I’ve bad with it.

How to use:
Instead of crossing out vowels and double letters, write out your intent and use all the letters present.

The lines represent the letters. If you have a repeating letter, place a small circle at the end of the preexisting line. You don’t need to be exact with all the angles of you the lines.

Just use this picture as reference or, I would be happy to teach you how to make it. Feel free to ask me about it if you don’t understand and want to learn. Please, if you decide to use this method and post it, tag me, I’d love to see.

I’d love to see this post make its way through the community as an alternative for new and old member alike.

credit:@wolfofantimonyoccultism for helping me get everything laid out. You should check out their blog

Hello everyone! I’ve gotten a few messages asking how I make my sigils so I thought I would show the process. People create sigils in many different ways, and the way in which you create sigils affects how they will look when they are complete. The way I make sigils is similar to many, but there are slight changes I have made. I recommend that if you make sigils that you follow a basic structure, but make changes so that your sigil creation unique.

So, step one: write out the intention/purpose for the sigil. It should be clear and concise; sentences will not do and if you are vague the sigil may not work at all, or may work in different ways. In this example, my intention is ‘more spoons’ (which is clear in its’ context.)

Step two: After you have set your intention, write out the letters (whether you write them in upper case or lower case will affect the look of the sigil), but leave out letters that appear more than once. Some people will also remove vowels at this stage, but I don’t.

Step three: After this, split each letter into its shapes; this is easier with upper case letters and is the way I do it. Write these shapes out, these shapes will make up your sigil.

Step four: look at the shapes, and visualise what a sigil with your intention may look like. I have always imagined protective or warding sigils to be more spiky and sharp, whilst calming or reassuring sigils are rounder and softer, for example.

Step five: Begin to draw out your sigil using the shapes available to you. Once I have used a shape, I will cross it off and not use it again.

Step six: My sigils are usually finished when either I have used up all the available shapes or when the sigil suddenly looks ‘right and finished’ to me. Usually, and hopefully, these two things will coincide, and that’s when I know the sigil is good.

Designer and founder of Vichcraft Design Studio, Jenna Blazevich took the road less travelled–by ditching an offer to work her dream job–to pursue her own passion and creative freedom. Jenna’s designs are bold, clean and smart as well as technically and aesthetically masterful. Vichcraft Design Studio has allowed her to bring feminist works to the forefront, creating a platform for important issues and topics. We’re so excited to have her on board for another year of Babes Ride Out, where she has designed a custom skate deck to be raffled off at the Babes East Coast event. In our latest Q&A, Jenna talks about how Vichcraft came about, gives us insights into running a business, and shares with us what she’s most excited about for this year’s 2017 Babes Ride Out!

A/N: Hey guys! I recently watched Say Anything for the first time and it sparked some cute Remus stuff. (If you’re here for the boombox scene then I’m going to have to apologize.) Remember to request Imagines, Preferences, Ships, Storylines, and Aesthetics. Hope you all enjoy! <3

The car rattles as the train races down the tracks. Your head rests on the frame of the windows. From thee other side of the door you hear loud cackles. The door slides open and Remus gives an exasperated sigh. Behind him follows James, Sirius, and Peter. Remus sits beside you as the others take their seats across from the two of you. Peter places a pile of sweets between himself and Sirius before unwrapping one and popping it in his mouth.

“So Y/n, you excited to spend a whole week with lover boy this summer.” James motions to Remus.

“Actually, about that.”,you reply,”My father refuses to let me stay at Remus’ home for one day let alone a week.”

“This true mate?” Sirius asks.

“I’m afraid so.” Says Remus in a gloomy manner.

You lean against Remus,”Don’t fret love, I’ll write you everyday.”

“Remus gives a shy smile,”I know. It just won’t be the same.”

James and Sirius proceed to make loud vomiting noises while Remus rolls his eyes. You chuckle and peck Remus on the lips, earning another series of vomit sounds from across the car.

“You’re both such children.” Remus grins.

The train halts to a stop in the busy station.Outside your compartment the clusters of students pass through the hall, eager for summer holiday to begin.Remus reluctantly hands you your trunk before grabbing his own. Peter, Sirius, and James all file out, chatting about the upcoming quidditch game cup.

Once they had left, Remus set his trunk down and wrapped his arms around your waist. You shuffle your trunk from your grasp and place your hands on Remus’ cheeks, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. He tightened his grasp on you, pressing your body against his. The train’s whistle blows and you pull apart hoping for just one more second with each other. Instead you both grab your trunks and exit with the last of your classmates.

After exiting the train you engulf Remus in a hug. He holds you tightly until his mum calls his name in a singsong tone.

“Goodbye Remus.” You grimace.

“Goodbye love.” Remus kisses the top of your head and breaks away from you embrace, picking up his trunk and heading off to meet his mum. He waves back to you as he disappears into the crowd.

The following week you receive a letter in the post. Immediately knowing who it’s from, you rip open the envelope. Before you can read anything the owl, who had been lingering at the table, nipped your finger.

“Oh! Of course! Here you are.” You beam placing a pile of seeds in front of the owl.

You read the letter intently as your mum cooks breakfast, humming lightly as she does so. Thin handwriting is scrawled all across the parchment.

Hello love,

I know it’s only been a week but I miss you so very much. I have to see you. I don’t quite know how yet but I’ll find a way.

yours truly,

Remus

You smile at the thought of seeing Remus, even though it’s unlikely.

“Who’s that from?” Your mum smirks.

“A friend.” You blush.

She turns back to the counter and you could have sworn you heard her say,”Mhm friend.”

That evening, after dinner, a knock came from your front door.your father stands up from his chair in the living room and answers the door. At the door stands a tall thin boy with wild brown hair, attempted to be combed.

“Who are you?” Your father asks.

The boy at the door shuffles his feet and looks sheepishly at your father.

“I’m Remus Lupin sir.” He holds out his hand to shake.

Your father reluctantly shakes his hand and stares at him clearly not amused.

“I assume you’re here to see my daughter.”

“Actually I would like to speak to you sir.” Remus says.

“Me?” Your father says, puzzled.”Why would that be?”

Remus becomes quiet. He draws his eyes away from your father, not quite ready to be sent off yet.

“I would like to get your permission to take your daughter out tonight.”

Your father opens his mouth to speak but decides to let Remus continue.

“Not just tonight, but every night. I understand that you don’t approve of me. But before you make a final decision let me tell you a few things about myself.”

Remus waits. Your father gives a firm nod to encourage him to go on. Remus gulps and takes a breath.

“I read a lot sir, mysteries mostly, classics as well. I love chocolate, who needs drugs when you got it? I believe smoking is a nasty habit, my best mate does it and it’s rather stupid. My mother raised me to respect all women sir and I live by it. Lastly I care for Y/n’s safety more than my own and will always put her first.”

Your father stares at Remus with a blank expression. They both stand on either sides of the doorway. Your father takes a deep breath and finally speaks.

“Here’s the real question boy. Do you love my daughter? Or are you gonna dump her next week for someone else?”

Remus furrows his brows and puts his hand on his chest, stepping forward slightly.

“Sir, Y/n is not a fling. She’s never been a fling. I love your daughter and if I’m quite frank sir I hope to marry your daughter.” Remus sees you at the top of the staircase. “That is, if she’ll take me.”

Your father stands in silence, eyes wide and mouth shut. He turns around to see you with a big smile spread across your face. Remus hears footsteps from the left of the door and sees your mum walk to the door smiling warmly.

“Hello Remus. Nice to meet you.” She slides out from behind your father and holds out her hand to shake. Remus smiles,”Nice to meet you as well Mrs. L/n.”

“Oh you can call me M/n. and this is D/n. Come in come in.” She trots back inside.

Before Remus could go inside your father places a hand on his shoulder and looks at Remus.

“You meant all that?”

“Every word.” Remus responds instantly.

Your father nods with a smile and guides Remus inside,”I still don’t like you though.”

You asked me once if I was a good girl with bad intentions or a bad girl with good intentions. I told you I was a good girl with no intentions. A year later and so much has changed. I couldn’t tell you which I am still. But I know my only intentions are to have you breathing on my neck as I hold you down on the bed, against the wall, and in the kitchen, while I show you exactly how much you’re worth while you’re screaming my name.

1: Let’s have a Great Day

summary: what if it was all a dream? What if Evan fell out that tree, hit his head, and dreamt it all up. Connor’s death, the lies, Zoe, what if he woke up and things were happening all over again but he knew the outcome. Evan has a chance to change what broken pieces one letter caused, what if he changes it and nothing better comes out of it. a/n: dear evan hansen is an amazing story about teens and mental health awareness. I don’t plan on leaving those themes out so if that makes you uncomfortable, this is probably not the series to read. I also plan on using all the information I can from my year(s) as a psych major…sooo *brushes off the dust from my psych degree and achievements* this is totally how I pictured using this.Warning:anxious thoughts; cursingw/c: 5784 (faaaaaak)Sincerely Taggin’: @hell-yes-puns-and-ships for beta’ing <3

‘I wanted to make sure, he saw this…’ She replied, the wind in her hair as she whipped around and with bitten back tears retreated from the bench. Evan watched Zoe go, the guilt still ate at him. It left him bittered. He clambered down on the bench and thought back on his actions. He thought back on the year that he felt at the time he’d never live past. But he did, here he was. He closed his eyes, mentally writing himself one more foolish letter. Another ‘sex’ letter Jared would have called it. Still, he felt uneasy. He watched the evening sky melt along the horizon, the orchard trees bare and tried to imagine what the Murphy’s picnics looked like when Connor was there.

“Evan…” He wanted to lift his head and see who was calling him, maybe Zoe changed her mind? Maybe she wanted to stay a bit longer? Wishful thinking on Evan’s part. No the voice wasn’t Zoe’s it, was deeper but his head was aching so bad he couldn’t put a face to the voice.

“Evan…”His eyes started to water, why was there so much pain? Was he going to die? Of what? Suddenly his brain melting for no reason? Guilt? Why didn’t it melt earlier and why was his last thoughts of some disembodied voice calling out for him? Wasn’t he suppose to have his life flash before his eyes or…actually now that he thought about it he rather the ear bleeding pain he was feeling over going over his life. Nineteen years of mistakes was not the last thing he wanted in his dying moments. Before his world went black, before he was sure he had died and there was nothing he could do about it.__________________________________________Evan was not dead. Death was not suppose to feel so uncomfortable. The pounding in his left temple was so bad he felt like someone was using an ice pick to clean out his ears. It was the kind of pain that bounced off the walls of his skull and made him feel like someone was shaking him around. Before he could open his eyes he was aware he was not in his room. This bed was stiff, crinkled as his sleepy limbs started to move. A small panic went through him when his left arm refused to feel, he wiggled his fingers and nothing. Slowly he opened one eye and saw nothing but light burn back at his retinas. He had stared into the sun, great now he was blind on top of dead. “Evan…sweetie?” The voice was back, and whoever it was stood in front of the light, thank god. Evan’s eyes blinked, slowly vision came to him. Slowly the shadow had a face, a worried set of eyes and a wrinkled frown with long blond hair.

“Mom…” Evan croaked, his voice was raw and dry. He never felt so cottoned-mouth since that time he had to present to the class in Sophomore year and literally wheezed. Her hands fluttered over his face, his sore face. “What….happened why …does everything huuuurt” he groaned the more he started to wake up the more pain began to build. It was everywhere, like he was nothing but a human bruise. He glanced at the only part of him that was somewhat painless for the moment. His left arm was held up by a sling. “And where am I?” He noticed the walls were white, and there was strange machinery all around. His mind still not having come through all the way could only assume he was abducted by aliens for further processing.

The hands on his face were cool, soothing if it wasn’t for the fact even the lightest touch hurt. She ran her hand through her son’s hair and smiled at him, fighting back joyous tears. “Well…you fell out of a tree.”

“What?!” No…Evan wasn’t in a tree, not that he remembered. Wait? What did he remember? Zoe…an orchard… It was all right there but slowly getting fuzzier and farther away as if it had all been… “When” He shook his head clinging to the shreds of memories that were melting away.

“Two days ago…”His mother slowly nodded her head as she cleared up the missing memories. “I don’t know why you were up in a forty foot tree…but you fell, yeah, and when the Park Ranger on duty was making his rounds he called you in…You were out there for almost an hour.”

Holy shit, he could have died. An hour? Why did it take so long…then again why was he working at the park? “Mom what…what day is it? In what year?”

“It’s the last Sunday of August, 2016.” She frowned a bit, “you start high school again in a few days…Senior year…” She tried to sound cheery. “The doctor said you suffered a bit of a concussion…you were out cold for two days.I was ….” There was a strain to her voice, Heidi felt as though she came too close to losing her only son. “It’s a miracle all you have are a couple of bruises and a broken arm.”

“A broken arm?” He glanced at his arm and felt a strange wave of familiarity come over him. This had happened before but he couldn’t seem to be in the right mind to remember. “Ugh my head…are you sure I still don’t have the concussion? I-I think I might have some internal bleeding, m-mom get the doctor…” Evan started to slowly panic, now that he was alive he would have liked to keep it that way.

“Shh, shh.” Heidi pulled the call button from Evan’s side before his good hand could get to it and started spamming for the nurse. “I’ll get the doctor, he’ll check you right up and soon we’ll be good to go back home.” His mother slowly pulled away from Evan’s side, she gave him one happy little smile and disappeared out of his room. He couldn’t see beyond the white dividing curtain. He took a moment to look over his surroundings, nerves itching at the back of his throat when he realized he was really out of it.

“Wait…if I’ve been out for two days…where have I been going to the…” He lifted up the sheet his good hand and peered down his bruise blotched body.To his horror he was not only naked, there was a catheter in his…He gulped down hard, feeling nothing but a sickening ache ripple through him. His lips opened and closed like he was going to say something.

“Ah, Mr. Hansen it’s good to see you’re awake.” The doctor came in, of course she was a woman. She watched as Evan’s pale, cold sweat drenched face locked eyes on her.

The terror overtook him and in the highest octave ,known to only some species of bats and dogs, he yelped “WHAT IS ON MY PENIS?!!

The scene at Pop's doesn't happen, Jughead gets on the bus to Florida, and Betty tags along? Or some variation of that. Thank you!

Here you go, hope it’s what you were looking for! Enjoy!

Title: Runaways

–

10:53p.m

“Betty, it’s me. I know you deserve more than this rushed, less than eloquent explanation in the back alley of a bus station - I mean, what we’ve gone through together surely warrants a twenty page exposé on what being with you has meant to me or at least some overly dramatic farewell in the parking lot like they do repeatedly in romantic comedies. But this hastily prepared phone call is all I’m able to come up with at the moment, most notably due to the fact that if I saw you in person right now I’d never be able to get on that bus. And I really need to go. Get out of Riverdale and away from the Blossoms and my father’s sins and - well, everything. Just know that I’m not leaving because of you, Betty Cooper. You’ve made these last few months of torturous hell some of the best months of my life. I’ll never forget that. And I’ll never forget how much I - I - I have to go. Bye, Bets.”

5:55a.m

Jughead clutched his beat-up hiking backpack that hung over his shoulder tightly with his gloveless hand, the chilly morning air flushing his cheeks and nose a pale pink that made him look like a young boy again, braving the cold just to play in the snow for a few hours until his mother called him in for dinner. Taking a step into the crowd of bus-goers, he stopped himself short before joining the passengers as they filed their way into their seats, glancing back at the bus depot’s entrance as if waiting for something -or someone- that wasn’t coming.

“Are you getting on or not, kid?” the bus driver asked from the driver’s seat, a tired expression crossing his face as he glanced down at Jughead standing by the open doorway looking unsure of himself as he teetered back and forth from one foot to the other. “The bus leaves the station in five minutes with or without you so I’d make up your mind pretty quick if I were you.”

“I’m coming,” Jughead assured him, although he made no move to prove his point and join the rest of the crowd on the bus.

“Just give me a few more minutes,” Jughead mumbled, adjusting his grip on the bag with one hand and sliding his ticket into the back pocket of his jeans with the other. “I have to get on that bus.”

“Well you’ve just wasted a full minute and a half in your failed attempt to convince us both of that statement, so whatever epiphany you think you’re going to have just standing there, I’d think of something that could make it happen a little quicker otherwise you’re stuck in this town forever,” the driver warned him, leaning back in his seat and resting his head back on the headrest behind him. “Or at least until the next bus leaves.”

“Come on, Jughead,” he mumbled to himself, the snow beginning to fall lightly on his beanie and the street in front of him. “Just get on the bus. There’s nothing keeping you here.”

“Running away to escape the sins of your father, huh?”

Jughead whirled around at the sound of the familiar voice that had made his heart skip a beat every time he heard it over the past few months, his pulse quickening at the sight of a bundled up Betty Cooper making her way over to him, her pale baby blue scarf wrapped snuggly around her neck and her gray peacoat buttoned all the way up to the tip of the collar.

“That’s a little ‘Huckleberry Finn’ don’t you think?”

“No, if I were following in the footsteps of Huck Finn, I would have faked my own death to escape my family,” Jughead pointed out, his gaze focused intently on the thick letters written on the side of the bus in front of them. “And we already had one teenager try that in this town - didn’t turn out so well remember?”

“Juggie,” Betty breathed, stepping around him so that he was forced to meet her gaze. ”Florida?”

“Yeah, well I hear that listening to the waves and feeling the ocean breeze on your skin does wonders for writer’s block,” Jughead shrugged, his expression hard and distant as he struggled to keep his heart from fluttering the way it always did when he was in her presence. “And considering I’m not writing my novel on Jason Blossom’s murder anymore, I figured a little seaside town in Florida was as good a place for a little inspiration and a fresh start.”

“Alone?” Betty’s voice was small, almost heartbreakingly so, and it took every bit of strength Jughead had left in him to resist scooping her up into his arms and holding onto her forever.

“I’ve been alone for the better part of my life, Bets,” Jughead reminded her, taking a step away from her as he continued to keep his distance. “My mother, Jellybean, now my father - they’ve all left me at some point, one way or another. And I know you were only doing what you thought was right to protect me, but even my friends, who I thought I could trust more than anyone, lied to me. People leave and let you down, it’s the way my life has always gone and I don’t see that changing anytime soon.”

Jughead felt his eyes begin to prickle with tears and he quickly stepped around Betty, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand and moving to place one foot on the first step leading up to the bus.

“But none of that matters anymore because I’m leaving that all behind. Goodbye Riverdale, goodbye Jughead Jones,” Jughead muttered, turning his back to Betty and grabbing onto the door with his free hand. “And it all starts as soon as I step onto that bus.”

“No,” Betty snapped, her voice ringing out amidst the empty bus station and falling snow blanketing the scene in front of them, causing Jughead to stop dead in his tracks, his foot sliding off the bus and back onto the pavement as he spun back around to face her.

“No?”

“You don’t get to just leave like that,” Betty told him, her eyes dancing wildly as the rage and longing and fear of losing something she had grown to crave more than oxygen over the past few months, began to take over her expression. “Not after everything we’ve been through together. Not after you climbed into my bedroom that day we went to see Polly and you kissed me. Not after everyday since then where you’ve been the one thing keeping me sane through this whole ordeal. Not after you made me fall in love with you!”

The words echoed off the walls of the empty bus depot, lingering in the air for a moment before hitting Jughead hard and fast, causing his heart to stop beating and his eyes to widen in disbelief as he slowly lifted his head to look at her.

“What did you say?”

“I didn’t mean for it to come out like that,” Betty apologized, her hand flying up to cover her mouth in disbelief as a beautiful pink color began to creep up onto her cheeks at the unexpected declaration. “I’m sorry.”

“You love me?” Jughead breathed, the words so quiet and unlike his own voice that he was sure that it was someone else who had spoken them.

“Yeah, Jug,” Betty assured him, her lips creeping up into a shy smile as she finally said the words that had been lingering in her thoughts for weeks, out loud. “I love you.”

In that moment, amidst the falling snow and the rumbling of the bus awaiting the last of its passengers, Jughead knew without a shadow of a doubt that the next move he made would solidify the fate of their relationship for the rest of time. So without another word, Jughead dropped his backpack onto the snow-covered pavement and took Betty’s face in his hands, her skin cool and smooth and perfect to the touch, and kissed her until all the words and feelings and thoughts that he couldn’t say right then, didn’t need to be said out loud anymore. With that one kiss, Betty got the answer she had been hoping for all along - something more than what could have been expressed through pretty soliloquies or well-thought-out speeches. And that was enough for her.

“Time’s up, kid,” the bus driver announced from the driver’s seat, causing Betty and Jughead to abruptly pull back from their embrace to meet his gaze. “Are you getting on or not?”

“I’m coming with you,” Betty told him, already pushing her way towards the steps leading up to the bus, nearly slipping on the patch of ice on the road and reaching forward to hold onto the side of the vehicle to regain her balance.

“What? Betty, no I can’t ask you to leave everything you’ve known your entire life for me,” Jughead told her, reaching out to take her by the elbow and pulling her gently back towards him. “And I can’t ask you to leave Polly, especially not now.”

“She’s the one who suggested I leave with you,” Betty admitted, pointing to the luggage off to the side of the bus that Jughead hadn’t noticed until that moment, revealing that this was what she had been planning all along.

“You didn’t come here to say goodbye,” Jughead guessed, realization washing over his face as he took in the bus ticket sticking out of her pocket and everything started to make sense to him. “You came here to run away with me.”

“Polly and Jason never got their chance to get out of Riverdale together,” Betty reminded him, taking his wind-bitten hands in hers and stepping forward to close the gap between them. “But maybe we actually have a chance to be happy, away from all the secrets and lies and drama, Jug. I know that as long as I’m with you, I can be happy anywhere. So let’s go be happy.”

“Bets, are you sure?” Jughead wanted to know, his brows drawing together in concern as he glanced up at the annoyed bus driver with uncertainty. “This isn’t a short sleuthing trip across town, this is for good. I don’t plan on coming back for awhile. Maybe not at all.”

“I’m sure that I love you,” Betty assured him, her hands gently grazing his cool skin with the tips of her fingers before resting them comfortably on his cheeks. “And that’s all that matters to me right now.”

He knew that they were going to be deemed certifiably insane by the better half of Riverdale for thinking that two teenagers could survive running away with little to no money and no plan for the future mapped out in front of them, but in that moment, Jughead didn’t care. He didn’t care about the future, or what anyone else said about them, just as long as Betty Cooper was by his side every step of the way.

“Let’s go then,” Jughead announced, taking her hand in his and nodding for her to follow him onto the bus before he changed his mind.

“So that’s what he was waiting for,” the driver noticed, smiling knowingly up at Betty as she passed him on her way to one of the free seats in the back of the bus. “Can’t say I blame you, boy. I would have waited for a girl like her too when I was your age. Never got so lucky, I’m afraid.”

“I’ve waited for her longer than you think,” Jughead admitted, smiling back at Betty as she settled her way onto the plush seating and placed her own backpack on her lap in front of her. “I just hope that my loving her doesn’t ruin her life. I don’t think I could live with myself if that were the case.”

“That’s a chance you’re going to have to take, son,” the driver informed him, glancing up to meet Jughead’s gaze with somber eyes. “Otherwise, you’ll never forgive yourself for letting someone like her slip through your fingers. Trust me, I know all too well.”

Jughead nodded at the bus driver as if he understood, smiling at him gratefully before making his way down the aisle to join the girl he was going to start a new life with. He knew that he was running away from a lot of demons that Riverdale possessed for him, but he also knew that he was running to something - something better and brighter and with Betty. And that was what finally put his mind at ease as the doors shut behind them and the driver pulled out of the depot as they made their way down the road, and towards new beginnings.

Adapting Jar Spells

There are some amazing jar spells out there, but if you’re like me and don’t want dozens of the things clanging about your house… there are plenty of ways to adapt them. (Check the ingredients’ safety info first of course)

*Turn it into a sachet spell.

* Infuse the ingredients into a base oil instead and make a magickal oil.

*Make a circle around a spell candle with the ingredients.

*Make a bath tea.

*Burn the safe ingredients as incense and surround the burner with the others.

*Make a candle and add the spell items to the wax.

*Get kitchen witchy with the edible ingredients and cast your spell with the rest, over your food/tea.

*Put the safe, environmentally friendly bits in a paper boat and float them away in a river/the sea.

*Make a powder and sprinkle it (safely now) according to the intent.

*Write your intention out in a letter, throw it and those ingredients in an envelope and seal it with wax.

🔮🌛🌜🔥

These are just a few ideas off the top of my head but you got the idea ☺ Stay safe, get creative and make those spells your own.

can you write a part 2 of i don’t love you anymore where grindelwald already knew about the reader so he takes her to lure newt to him and tortures her and stuff and he has to save her and he feels super bad?

As the door closed and Newt disappeared, you felt your entire world come crashing down. You didn’t know what to feel or do. You stood there for what seemed like hours waiting for the knob to turn and for him to reappear.

But he never did.

Your legs finally gave in and you slowly fell to the ground. Your knees hit the wood floor harshly but you hardly cared. Your hand caught you as you fell and you let out a cry. He was gone. The love of your life was gone. There was no explanation or reason. He just didn’t love you anymore.

Your chest heaved as you sat there; your entire body crumbling inwards and your heart shattering to a million pieces within you.

The Key of Naming, a numerologically based syllabic method of creating numeroharmonic names and parallels of words for the purpose of mantric sigil creation. Using the resulting conversions, which are accomplished by reducing statements of intent into into paired letters, those pairs into numbers, and those numbers into harmonic consonant/vowel pairs selected from the chart in accord with one’ sense of aesthetics as guide, and then charged by repetition in a state of gnosis (such as with meditation, sexual gnosis, etc.) yields remarkable results.

jgh and im gonna yeet cuz i forgot i have an application due tonight 11:59 jhfjdfkds. im reapplying for a writing/storyboarding position in my old org and my portfolio is all in order i just need to write a letter of intent. WHICH. how do i say “hey guys remember me i made comics and an entire children’s storybook for u last year and i totes wanna do more of that shit. pls let me write for u again. u wont regret it. PLEASE!!!” without saying, like. Those Exact Words.